Seeing Her Again
by The Hermione Granger Fan Club
Summary: Fifteen-year-old Jace is on her first solo assassination mission for Manticore. Guess which X5 she manages to run into?


I tug awkwardly at my skirt as I leave the club and childishly blow at the barrel of my handgun, watching smoke fly away into the night. Right. I've completed my objective. The senator is dead.   
  
I'm fifteen, on my first solo mission and I have two days to kill before reinforcements come to fetch me. I am NOT braving the buses again.   
  
I've never worn a skirt before and feel shy about having this much of my legs showing. I had to look feminine and demure for this mission, so a mission coordinator showed me what to wear the night before I left. She helped me pack my duffel bag.   
  
"Pity about your muscle structure..." she said fretfully, patting my upper arm.   
  
I yanked my arm away like her fingers were hot coals. I don't like to be touched. "With all due respect, ma'am, what's wrong with my arms? I do weight training every single night, ma'am."  
  
"Exactly. On the Outside, it's not considered feminine to have good muscle structure. That's the men's' job."  
  
"That's dumb," I answered shortly. 'Dumb' is my favourite word.   
  
"I don't make the rules, 798. Still, pity about your arms- long sleeves isn't fashionable at the moment, so you'll have to make do. Tell them you're an athlete if they ask. Oh, and you'll want this." She tossed me a red cloth... strip.   
  
"Is this a belt or a bandanna, ma'am?" I ask, examining it closely.   
  
"Neither. It's a shirt."  
  
I held it at arm's length. Not a practical garment. Revealing, brightly coloured and... dumb. "It shows too much skin, ma'am."  
  
"I thought we went through this already, X5-798. You have to look old if you're going to get into the gentlemen's club and assassinate the senator."  
  
Some first solo mission. Only good thing about this was the fact that I got to use my gun. However, I had been given an order and intended to obey.   
  
I had to blend in... even if it meant complying to the ridiculous stipulations of this thing called 'fashion'.  
  
I arrive back at my motel and unfortunately run into an overfriendly guest from across the hall along with her friends. "Ooh! Jade! Jade, over here!"   
  
I cringe and force a smile onto my face. "Hello, Sandy. I'm just going to go up to my room now, nice to see you all-"  
  
"Jade Morris, don't even think about it." Her friends look curiously at me and titter when Sandy mouthed audibly to them. SHE'S SHY. "You are gonna come out with us and have fun, 'K? We're going to a bar, isn't that just the craziest? AND you're all dolled up already, so don't tell us you don't want some action."  
  
I silently curse whoever it was who decreed the dress code for this mission. Why couldn't the senator have been a straight woman? Then it would be an X5 male in this mess.   
  
So I'm dragged from my room, where I planned to do push-ups and read for a few hours, to a smoky bar. The women fan out across the bar, hitting on every man they can see. It's NAUSEATING.   
  
I take a seat up at the bar and order a soft drink. This makes me look nearly as young as I actually am but I don't care. Colonel Lydecker has preached the evils of alcohol to us X5s since we were babies.   
  
Apparently, I am 'cute' and so attract a lot of attention. Men come up to me and buy me drinks. I try to refuse but see other women glaring at me. This must be what they do when offered a drink. I have to blend in.   
  
Hours later, I'm drunk and reeling as I stagger out to the back of the bar and throw up. Tears prick at my searing eyes and I don't know whether it's all the drinks I had or the fact that my desire to blend in got in the way of my mission.   
  
Someone's behind me as I cough and gag into the gutter. "Are you OK?" asks a young woman's voice as I fight not to throw up again. "Them bastards... sorry, kid, I should've called them off. Although I doubt you've ever even BEEN in a bar before. What are you, sixteen?"  
  
I wince, shivering against the wind, and shake my head.   
  
"Whatever. You gonna be OK, or should I help you inside?"  
  
I shake my head again, gulping in air.   
  
"OK. You go and get cleaned up, an' I'll slam those dumbasses into a wall for preying on you. You gotta steer clear of them, kid. Even if they think you're cute, they're trouble." The young woman walks away.   
  
Tears spurt from my eyes and I wipe them away furiously. How could I forget the objective? Objective. Mission. Duty. Objective, objective, all that matters is completing the objecti-  
  
I freeze.   
  
I creep back inside, ignoring the calls of men up at the bar and stalk into the women's bathrooms. I wash out my mouth in one of the sinks to the disgust of some women waiting to use the facilities and redo my hair, all the time keeping my eye on a young woman- more like middling teens- sitting on the sinks and chatting with some other girls from the bar. They seem to be taking a break.  
  
"... so, yeah," laughs the girl from outside. "I told them where to get off. Damn, working in a place like this is ex-haus-ting. Ya know, babysitting the newcomers and all." The other women, many much older than her, laugh appreciatively and stub out their cigarettes on the sinks before leaving.   
  
Her hair is dyed black, but you can plainly see she's naturally blonde. She has wide-set blue eyes, and some freckles. She's very pretty... almost too pretty. She, even in a skimpy outfit with a number of tattoos peeking from under her sleeves and skirt and neckline, gives off an aura of innocence.   
  
Just like me.   
  
She suddenly looks right at me and grins. "There you are. You all right, kid?"  
  
Suddenly, she goes pale as I stand here staring at her, rage boiling within me. It's all I can do not to charge over to her and snap her neck. Her mouth drops slightly open. "Jace?" she whispers in shock.   
  
There is a sudden explosion of hatred and anger inside me unlike anything I have ever felt before at the very mention of my 'baby name', and for a moment I imagine her there, small and thin, with no shoes and her lovely hair shorn to the bone.   
  
How DARE she?  
  
She's there again, and I know what she looks like now. Catlike, she jumps off the sink and runs, her boots squeaking on the tiled floor of the bathroom.   
  
I give chase, moving as if shot from a gun through the mingling people in the bar as X5-210 bursts through the door and stumbles, nearly falling forward.   
  
210 darts into an alley and I duck into the shadows silently as she turns around, breathing hard.   
  
I'm upon her. I grab her by the throat and slam her into a wall, seething with so much anger I want to see her hurt, see her cry, see her beg me for mercy. My face is contorted with rage as she struggles against my hand, choking out something.   
  
Traitor. Rat. Plague. Dangerous. Sickness. Deserter. Kill, kill, kill...  
  
I throw her to the ground so hard her head snaps backward and hits the cement and as she tries to get her breath back I pull a gun on her, so she's staring right into the barrel of my trusty handgun. I've had this gun since I was eleven. It's never let me down.   
  
Kill, kill, kill...  
  
X5-210 glares at me venomously as I hiss at her. "Pathetic, soldier. You aren't even trying."  
  
"I'm through with being a soldier. I don't like orders or drills or meds, and I'm never going back."  
  
She whips up a booted foot and kicks my gun out of my hand. Damn. They taught us that trick when I was seven, so she would have learned that. Now I'm really pissed. I loved that gun.   
  
Kill, kill, kill...  
  
"210, you have orders. Come back with me. They'll make better, stronger, faster than you ever dreamed-"  
  
"I don't dream about Manticore. I get nightmares about that place. That's why I don't sleep," says X5-210, and she jumps to her feet.   
  
I want to see her scream, see her cringe, see her writhe in pain. Kill, kill, kill...  
  
"I don't like to be called a colonel's pet, 210," I say, forcing my face into a strained smile. "I'll give you a sporting chance."  
  
"Excuse me?" she asks in disbelief.   
  
"Run," I say shortly.   
  
She leaps up and twists sharply in the air, carrying her a short way from me to the fire escape ladder of the nearest building, which she starts to climb. With a roar of rage, I launch myself at her, forgetting training and discipline and exerting tactical advantage. I dive at her, attempting to tackle her, grab her by the ankles and pull her down, but 210 evades me and I end up sprawled on the ground spitting gravel.   
  
"I'll get you, Jondy..." I whisper, a twisted sort of smile playing across my face.   
  
I'm scaring myself. But- I hate her so much I want the satisfaction... to prove Manticore really made me better.   
  
I'm climbing, higher and higher, feeling the effects of the alcohol leaving me. With a surge of determination, I jump up on top of the building and follow her.   
  
She turns, facing me, and I take a fighting stance before we begin to fight.   
  
Her fist flies out and I grab it, taking both her arms and walking her backwards toward the edge of the roof, intending to push her off. With a grunt, she kicks out and her foot connects with my knee.   
  
Pain. I breathe the way I was taught, dulling the sharp, growing feeling of pain from the spot her combat boot hit me.   
  
I punch her in the mouth and then twice in the eye. It's obvious she hasn't experienced an X5 punch in years, slightly stunned. She blocks my third punch, to her exposed throat and shoves me.   
  
I have the upper hand, dominating the fight. This isn't the routine tussle I engage in with my fellow X5s during sparring back home. This is a full-fledged clash. My fists and feet fly out like I'm some kind of machine, bruising her. Incredibly, she manages to hold her own, landing a few punches herself. But it's pointless. She hasn't trained in six years.   
  
210 is running again, retreating like the cowardly traitor she is. With a burst of animal energy, I jump and then run, pursuing her. Finally, I skid to a halt in yet another alleyway, down from the roof now. My heart is pounding in my ears.   
  
Where is she? I take a deep breath of the stinking air around me, trying to detect her. For I can. Humans smell differently to each other, as distinctive as one's fingerprint- it's subconscious, so most don't realise it. Part animal, it is almost completely obvious to me.  
  
I look for that and for some disturbance in the air, indicating her running.   
  
Suddenly, shockingly, I freeze as she speeds up behind me and pulls my arm up behind my back. "You've gotta remember, Jace," she hisses into my ear. "I was the master of stealth."  
  
X5-210 pulls my arm up sharply and I gasp as she breaks it at the elbow. Then she kicks me so hard in the small of my back that I crumple to my knees, and then again in the side of my head. I lie motionlessly in the alley.   
  
She dusts herself off and I see her turn to walk away and leave me here. She hesitates and turns back, stooping to closely inspect me. I catch sight of some spectacular bruises blooming around her eye and blood running from her lower lip before I pass out.   
  
What's she gonna do to me? I am so dead...  
  
I wake up suddenly as I'm slapped into the face. I look wildly around and see her standing before me, that same wicked grin she always used to have back home all over her face.   
  
Reeling, my first impulse is to jump on her and smash her head against the floor. She laughs. "Not so fast, Jace."  
  
That name again. Jace. Like an insult. I look down. I've been bound into an armchair- heavy metal chains are wound around both of my lower legs, tying them to the legs of the chair. One arm is also chained to the armrest, and the other hangs limply in a sling.  
  
"Let me go!" I rage.   
  
"Why? So you can go all psycho again and try to kill me? I don't think so. Not yet, anyway."  
  
"You made a big mistake coming after me last night, 210," I say, seeing light coming through a window. I appear to be in her apartment, which is very messy. A sleeping bag and a bunch of women's magazines sit on the windowseat. She probably sat here all night, waiting for the right moment to bring me back, to this Outside hell.   
  
"Well, I wouldn't have guessed it was you, Jace. You were looking downright relaxed, not glaring at everybody. Older. Like a girl."  
  
"Don't call me by that word, 210."  
  
210 sits on the windowseat, staring right into my eyes. "What? Jace? Only if you don't call me by that number, Jace."  
  
"Whatever."  
  
"Say my name. Go on. What is it? You remember what it is?"  
  
"Of course I remember what it is," I snap. "I'm not dumb. But it's a bad word."  
  
"Say it, otherwise I'll break your other arm."  
  
"What do you WANT from me?" I demand.   
  
"Don't panic. Just say it. What did you used to call me?"  
  
"It was... Jondy," I seethe, scarcely able to say it without getting a bad taste in my mouth.   
  
"Good girl, 798," she says, grinning broadly. "You want something to drink?"  
  
I give her a nasty look.   
  
"Water. No liquor, just water, OK?"  
  
"No. How am I supposed to know you won't poison it?"  
  
"J- 798, come on. I didn't exactly like you, but I'm not a homicidal maniac."  
  
"I don't want any water," I say stubbornly.   
  
"Fine," says 210, rolling her eyes. "What were you doing in my bar, anyhow?"  
  
"It was necessary for the mission," I say, not dreaming of admitting I gave the appearance of coming willingly.   
  
"I won't ask about that. Those were some punches you threw last night, 798. Nearly made me cry, and believe me, it's not humanly possible to make me cry."  
  
I smile wistfully. "That's all I've wanted to do for six years, J-"  
  
"Say it."  
  
"Jondy."  
  
"Just to me? I'm honoured that I seem to be the only one you hate enough to want to reduce to tears."  
  
"No," I say, giving her my famous glare. "Don't be dumb. All of you. You betrayed us. You left us behind."  
  
"You STAYED BEHIND, you dumb- oh, great, now you've got me saying it!"  
  
"There's no CO any more, do you realise that? He left us too. I- we're-"  
  
"So articulate."  
  
"Bitch."  
  
"Ooh! So you DO know actual bad words."  
  
"Shut up, Jondy. God, I feel so stupid. I had the upper hand. I could have KILLED you. Then all my problems would have been solved!" I don't realise that I'm yelling until it's too late.   
  
And suddenly a weary sadness takes Jondy's face. "You would have killed me?" She frowns slightly. "How would that have solved all your problems?"  
  
"I don't know... well, I probably wouldn't have killed you. Brought you home, most likely. Beat the shit out of you, definitely."  
  
"Home? Jace, I'm never going back there."  
  
I wince at the sound of that weird word and clear my throat.   
  
"OK, OK. 798. Whatever."  
  
"Well, why have you brought me back to this... place."  
  
"Excuse me, this happens to be my apartment."  
  
"You're allowed to live by yourself?"  
  
"Well, no. Everyone thinks I'm eighteen." She grins and raises her eyebrows suggestively. "I felt sorry for you, lying there. I brought you back here and did your broken arm up all nice for you, see how I did that?"  
  
"What are you going to do with me?"  
  
"Drop you nearby your hotel."  
  
"How? You don't even know where my hotel is."  
  
"So innocent. I went through your pockets and found a matchbook from your hotel."  
  
"You went through my POCKETS?" I demand.  
  
"Standard procedure. Hang on a sec." 210 leaves the room a moment while I desperately look around for some indication of the apartment's location. My chair is positioned in front of a window that had a spectacular view of... a brick wall.   
  
"It's a bummer, though," she says. "I'm gonna have to move house now, and this window has a fantastic view."  
  
"You find red bricks fantastic? You're even more easily amused than I remember."  
  
"Not the bricks, 798. The stars. I love stars. I got a tattoo of stars on my shoulder, want to see?"  
  
"No."  
  
She takes no heed and slides away her black shirt from her shoulder, showing off a tattoo of two small children with buzz-cuts staring at a swirling, starry sky above them.   
  
"You and 452?" I ask. She nods.   
  
"I'm gonna have to get a cover-up tattoo, now that I think about it, having showed you my baby. An identifying mark. Crap."  
  
"You're risking your security more every second. A soldier would have left me to rot in the alley."  
  
"Yeah. A sister, however, brings you back to her house and chains you into a nice comfy chair. I mean, come on. How forgiving am I?"  
  
I glare at her as she pulls out a length of cloth to bind my eyes with. Then I frown. "You call your tattoos your babies?"  
  
"Just the one. That one's my favourite. Me and Maxie together."  
  
"Aren't you together?" I ask, confused. "The way you stuck together when you were young I was surprised she wasn't working at the bar with you."  
  
She looks sad. "We were separated." 210 binds my eyes so tightly I can't even open them. I feel her help me up out of the chair.   
  
I wince as I feel the bruise on my knee. "Do you have a car?"  
  
"I SAID I was going to drop you off, didn't I? But no, I don't have a car. My trusted friend and confidante Mrs Withers across the hall has a car, and I'm sure she won't mind my borrowing it... Now, 798, just shut up and look natural."  
  
She guides me down the stairs of the building and I feel myself being pushed into the front passenger seat of what feels like a station wagon.   
  
We drive in silence for awhile. She slams on the brakes.   
  
"Get out."  
  
"OK." I pause. "Jondy, do you have a driver's licence?"  
  
"No. I'm only fifteen."  
  
"I figured you wouldn't." I find the door handle and open it. "I still hate you, you know."  
  
"I expected that. Jace... you didn't grow up abysmally for a freaky Manticore super-soldier. Now, get out."  
  
A strong hand pushes me out of the car and I land in a heap on the sidewalk. In a flash, I whip off my blindfold and dilate my pupils to focus on the car, but the girl who used to be my sister has already turned the corner.  
  
* * *   
  
DISCLAIMER: 'Dark Angel' belongs to James Cameron and Fox. Not me. So don't sue.   
  
NOTE: I'm really not sure about my characterisation of the adult Jondy. Usually, I post my DA fics not only here but at Dark Cherubs and Dark Angel- The Ultimate BBoard. I won't post this one at those sites just yet. If you're reviewing, could you please say whether I should post at the other sites too? Thanks. 


End file.
